


Hakuna Wasiwasi

by OdeToLife (HymnForDeath)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Acxa is Best Friend of the Year, African Culture, Allura and Hunk are lovers at heart but not for real, Allura and Hunk share an apartment, Allura is a beast, Allura isn't enough for Zarkon, Allura's convertible is her baby, Allura's mom owns a tea shop, Also I'm a Florida kid born and raised so no snow, Ankara attire, Art, Basketball, Because I can't write conflict for shit, Chakra, Chocolate, Comaraderie, Drawing, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Fun, Honerva likes her though, Hunk is a tattooist part-time, Hunk meets Shay because of Allura, I need to relax, I obviously fancy Hunk and Allura as best friends, I think this book is the stress relief we need, I'm such a hippy at heart, IceCream, Introspection, Keith Allura and Lance longboard together, Keith is too good for sweets, Lance is Fútbol King, Lance makes better flan than Hunk, Late at Night, Life is beautiful, Lotor and Allura are cut-off, Lotor does fencing on Tuesdays, M/M, Matt is Trickboard God, Meditation, Motorcycles, Music, Painting, Photography, Pidge has acne that just just won't quit, Pidge prefers trickboard, Polynesian Culture, Quinoa - Freeform, Relax - Freeform, Rolo is a yoga instructor, Sandcastles, Shiro can't believe it, Shiro is booked until weekends, Sincline is a motorcycle, Soccer, Surfing, Volleyball, Yoga, a collection of loosely related shots, boho style if you haven't figured it out yet, breath-catching, chapter length will fluctuate, chillax, convertibles, dealing with acne, detox for your soul, did I mention this book was for relaxation? casual read, do you need to relax? I think we all need to relax, finding a job, forget coffee, fresh outta college, future-spection (not a word), get ready for some massive culture shock, happy times only, high-adrenaline novela, hispanic culture, how long do you think this book will be?, if you're looking for a heart-stopping, imagine everything in low indigo light, kente beads, let's find peace, let's live without drama, life isn't all about stress y'know, minor conflicts I suppose, namaste for real, ndi dinga wena is the theme song, no stress over finals, relatively short chapters, seriously no one competes with her in the gym, skateboarding/longboarding, so many effing tags, some Japanese culture, something to pass the time, sorry - Freeform, tea is where it's at, tea shops, the beach, the gym, this is not the book for you, tiki charms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HymnForDeath/pseuds/OdeToLife
Summary: Life isn't so bad. You work, you make friends. You sleep. You go to the beach or the park. You play volleyball or soccer. There may be a disagreement or two, a disappointment or two, but you get back up eventually. You live.-A collection of semi-related oneshots detailing the regular, everyday lives of new college grads as they navigate what's left of their youth.





	1. No Stress

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the tags, this is probably going to be the chillest book you ever read in your life. Little to no conflict, and definitely no major conflict. This is a relax book.
> 
> Relax.
> 
> Also, if you didn't read the tags, Allura and Hunk are lovers in a playful, friendly way, but aren't actually in a relationship. I say this because if it was not stated, you'd be pretty confused in a few seconds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Allura liberate themselves from the drudgery of a college education.

> _**Don't worry about a thing. 'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright.** _

**_Bob Marley--_ **

Allura moaned silently as her body woke itself up and her eyes steadily opened. She had slept very well the night before, so well that she rued the morning and all of its warmly hued beauty for the first time in her life. She wanted to burrow under her covers and relax with her eyes closed, feeling the sun's heat through her thin comforter, relishing the smell of fresh linen. Maybe nibbling on some of Hunk's amazing breakfast. . .

Thinking of it, Allura noted how  _heavenly_ the air smelled right then. She turned onto her back, and blinked slowly once the savory aroma wafted into her nose. She took a deep breath, her eyelids fluttering in indecision. Then the sharp smell of sweetened cinammon came into the mix and Allura made up her mind. She moaned loud.

"Hunk," she called, standing from her bed with steadily increasing energy. She padded out the door to her bedroom and down the hall, through the small living room of their apartment. She came to the kitchen bar and, with a lazy, elated smile, rested her head full of tangled hair on the counter. She sighed as she listened to the sound of utensils and pans tinking, and the merry song Hunk always hummed when he cooked.

"Hunk, my love. You know you are making it very hard for me to elect staying in bed." she complained, voice husky from sleep.

"That's my job," he joked, using his unrivaled skills to toss a medley of peppers and eggs in a skillet over the stove, "You'd never start the day if I didn't make you breakfast."

"That's true," Allura amended. She yawned small with a hand primly over her mouth, then took a seat at the bar as she waited for Hunk to finish. Her full hair hung over her eyes and draped messily over her shoulders, but she didn't care at the moment. She'd fix it with a brush later.

Allura fiddled with the ends of her hair as she woke up. While ready to start the day, part of her wanted to cling to the fuzzy feeling of sleepiness, to the comforting blear of being tired. She hummed along with Hunk in her sleepy stupor. She'd learned a time ago that when he cooked, he hummed the melody to a Samoan song his mother sang while she worked around the house. Apparently, it was a family song that was passed down generations. He didn't mind that she joined in, seeing as the two of them were practically family anyway.

When Hunk was finally finished with cooking, breakfast was served atop the bar counter. There were stars in Allura's eyes as she gazed down at her meal, energy instantly replenishing in full. She parted her thick curtain of hair in front and tucked the wayward strands behind her ears so that they wouldn't get in the way. Unfortunately, the effort was for naught; she could feel her voluminous hair pressing against her ears as some curls managed to slip past, the pressure too much for the thin cartilage. She decided to quickly go grab a hairband and use it to tie the front segment of her hair back (she'd gotten hair in her mouth once before and it wasn't pleasant).

Once Allura returned, thick curls restrained as well as they could be, she sat on her barstool with a relieved huff. Hunk sat on an identical stool beside her and, as always, waited for her to pick up her knife and fork before lifting his own to eat. It was a courtesy he gave every time he ate with another or others, no matter who. It was also another family custom of his. Allura didn't think she would ever find anyone  _half_ as generous as Hunk and his family. The day she did was the day she got a perm.

Their meal, as always, was well balanced; Hunk just might have an aneurysm if he ever cooked an unbalanced meal. Their plates were filled to the brim with fruit salad, spinach omelets with peppers in them, sausage links, and french toast, with a glass of water and a glass of orange juice for them both. It was a lot of food, but Allura had learned a while ago that that was just how Hunk's family cooked: plentifully. She never complained. Hunk always managed to make a week's worth of food out a few groceries, and on their limited budget, such a skill was a blessing given that he found a way to cook anything and everything to perfection.

Allura savored each bite of her breakfast, relishing how flavorful it was. The sausage links were maple flavored, the omelets had a but of cheese tucked in, the fruit was perfectly ripe, and the french toast had an earthy kick to it which came from a few sprinkles of nutmeg (though Hunk thought she didn't know about the latter). With some syrup drizzled over the top of everything sans the fruit, it was exactly as Allura preferred.

"Are you ready for your exams?" Hunk asks, a napkin obscuring his mouth from view as he spoke (they also got along very well because of their matching table manners).

Allura finished what was on her tongue before replying. "Of course," she said, then shoved the other half of a sausage link in her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, took a sip of her water, "And you?"

"'I stayed up until nine last night studying, so I'm good. But just in case, I think I'll brush up on the material a bit before school."

Allura polished off the rest of her omelets. She smiled as she chewed, turning to Hunk when she was done. The huskiness in her voice had gone by then, replaced by a light silkiness. Hunk wondered if she knew how soothing her morning voice was. "Careful now, love," she warned, "'Wouldn't want you to study so much that you forget everything."

Hunk chuckled, humored, but heeded her words just the same. He remembered how last year his buddy Lance had decided that he wanted to really study for the first time in his academic career. Lance ended up taking it so seriously, studying so much, that he completely blanked when it came time for him to take his exam. At first he hadn't thought it possible, but Hunk vowed never to make the mistake of overstudying after witnessing it firsthand.

Both graduates chugged along with their hearty meal, allowing themselves to relax. They had paid attention in class and reviewed what they needed to, now all that was left was to do well on the test. There was no shortage of confidence on either of their ends.

Breakfast was finished at around 9:45 am. That left them an hour and fifteen minutes to get ready and make their way to Garrison U. Hunk washed the dishes, Allura dried. They went their separate ways in the small apartment hallway and entered their respective rooms to get dressed and prepare for the day. It took Allura an extra thirty minutes to groom herself before they left.

The trip was taken together in her car since they would both be returning to the apartment after the tests to rest. Allura proudly owned a prim and perfect blue BMW convertible, a little zippy car with an engine that sang as much as it roared. It was the last thing her father decided to hand her. After Blue (what she had oh-so-creatively decided to dub her car), he had cut her off-- lovingly-- from the family fortune. She would eventually earn rights to it again after success, though her parents would surely not hesitate to help her if she truly struggled. As such, Blue was Allura's prized possession.

Hunk didn't think he would ever get used to the levity of riding with the top down. He could never resist smiling brightly when the sun touched his face, hair catching on rhe breeze, lungs enriched with fresh air. Allura liked to make fun of him for acting brand new to the experience every time, but he didn't care.

As they rolled up to the university, Hunk double-checked their testing materials. He dubbed them prepared as Allura drove the car into the parking lot. And Allura smiled as she backed Blue into a parking space, eyes glittering with the premonition of a seven-hour journey to freedom.

* * *

Neither Hunk nor Allura had their test results yet, but the exams had gone well, so after sleeping well into the next day, they woke up ecstatic.

Hunk cooked them breakfast and they hummed along to his song that never grew old. The morning was relatively silent as they ate, both young adults finding peace in the quiet, until Hunk's phone began to ring from the other room. Hunk excused himself to answer it. He brought it back with him.

"Yeah. . . of course. . . _any_ reason is a reason to celebrate to you, Lance. . ."

Allura smiled as she listened to Hunk exchange words with the muffled, cheery voice in the phone. She'd only met the lad Lance a few times in the midst of her previously busy schedule, but she knew him enough to know that his eyes sparkled with an unrivaled levity as he spoke. He was the life of the party.

". . .No, of course I do! . .  _yes_ , Lance. . . okay--. . . okay, we'll be there. See you!"

 Hunk hung up with an amused huff. He shook his head in mock disbelief. "Sometimes I wonder about him." he said.

"Sometimes I wonder about him too, but then I stop because I'd go mad if I kept on."

Hunk laughed fully at that. Allura liked the jolly sound of it.

"Anyway," Hunk breathed, picking up his fork again while taking a deep, calming breath, "Lance invited us out for lunch today. He wants to celebrate our theoretically exemplary test grades. I told him we'd go, but if you'd rather get some more rest, I'll call him back."

Allura's eyebrows raised in delight. "Actually, that sounds exquisite."

"Great. How do you feel about coffee?"

Allura froze. She glanced at Hunk from the corner of her eye, her glass of water at her lips. When she swallowed, Hunk's nervousness showed; he shoved some pancake in his mouth and tried to look innocent.

Allura eyed him suspiciously. "You  _know_ how I feel about coffee."

"Yeah, but--"

"Hunk," Allura put her cup down firmly against the counter, "the last time I was anywhere near coffee, I got one whiff of caffeine and couldn't resist. The next morning I had the worst hangover of my life."

It was an inexplicable thing. Allura had been barred from coffee all her life without really knowing why, then became an adult and decided to try it for herself. The brew was sinfully delicious and filled her with an unending well of energy. But the delight came with a horrible price. For some odd reason, her body (which was 5'9" and 155 Ibs, mind you) was just unable to handle it.

"I know," said Hunk, "But Lance and Pidge only ever go to cafés and diners that sell coffee. I already know whatever place they've chosen is going to have something to do with it."

Allura sighed. She tapped a chocolate finger against the bar counter with a contemplative expression. "Cafés are  _off limits,_ " she decided, "But I suppose a diner couldn't hurt. . ."

Hunk smiled bright. "You're the best, _Lani_!"

Allura tried to hide her smile behind the rim of her cup, but failed; Hunk's Samoan nickname for her always made her feel ticklish inside, like a giddy child. He certainly knew how to make a girl feel special. She hoped he found someone that made him feel the same way one day.

"But Lance and Pidge will have to get their coffee _after_ we meet up," Allura declared, "I don't need any temptation, especially since my mother is expecting me in the morning."

"Deal. I'm texting them right now."

Allura watched Hunk beam as he multitasked eating and texting. She continued to eat her food too, not wanting it to get cold, and connected her own phone to the speaker pill they kept on the bar, suddenly in the mood fir a little music. She played a nice feel-good song for the day.

Because, for now, everything was going alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno about y'all but I don't stress over any test I haven't taken yet. And I'm a pretty good test-taker, so I hardly grow anxious in the middle of tests too. So I'm honestly tired of reading about pre-test stress.
> 
> Comment #nostress if you don't stress over tests either.
> 
> More to come! 😊


	2. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro picks up Keith from work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't find a song quote to start this one with, but I'll add one later.

Shiro sighed as he packed away his teaching materials into his worn satchel. The day had been long and loud, his young minds for molding not too interested in being molded. He was far from unaware of the dissatisfaction of being made to attend school, but sometimes he wondered if kids these days were a little  _too_ learn-phobic; they had hardly stopped chattering for longer than a moment to let him go over their assignment.

Regardless, he smiled as his hands neatly stacked books and folders into his bag, then slung the strap over his shoulder. It was hard to get kids' attention sometimes, but it was worth the headache for their benefit.

It was also a bit of a relief. Shiro had spent a lot of his adulthood thus far in the military where work was carried on in solemn silence unless it was training or an emergency. Years of such clinical obligation had made him a bit emotion-starved. So excited, idle chatter from bright-faced children was much more a blessing than it was a burden to him.

As he walked down the halls, barren and quiet an hour after student dismissal, Shiro sometimes passed a familiar face or two. Other teachers who were wrapping up their computer work and heading home, or going to pioneer clubs. They exchanged brief farewells before going on their way-- informal, relaxed farewells. Yeah, Shiro thought, this is the life he wanted to live.

He made his way to the teacher parking lot and found his rustic gray sedan shining in the midday light. Shiro cast a shadow over his eyes with his hand as he looked up to the sky on his way to his car. The skies were clear save for a small cloud or two, the sun beating down on the ground without mercy. He was fortunate that winter time made the air a little nippy in Arus. The weather was a perfect combination of hot sun and cold air. If one wasn't moving, all they really needed were some long sleeves and to enjoy the scenery.

Driving now, Shiro enjoyed the blurs of blue and green at his periphery. He hummed a little tune and tapped the steering wheel as he went. At the next intersection, he decided to let the same song play in his car and hooked up his phone to the speakers. He played  _Kyoto_ by a group called The Strawhats on YouTube. The music was a mix of traditional and modern music from Japan and the dance routine (that he would otherwise be watching if he were not on the road) was a bit of an interpretive dance in the part of a play. Shiro had just enough time to play the video before the light changed colors again.

Serenaded by sounds of Japan, Shiro pleasantly made his way to where Keith worked. He parked his car outside of  _Marmora_ , a darkly themed motorcycle shop that stood out on the bright city corner, and texted Keith that he was ready to bring him home.

Keith had dropped out of college in the second term of his junior year. Shiro was told that he literally walked out of the classroom in the middle of a lesson, without a single word, and never went back (excluding, of course, the un-enrollment process). It was never held against Keith and, quite honestly, things seemed to be going better for the young man now that he was out.

Keith had always been rather "handy" when it came to vehicles. After leaving university, he quickly completed some technical college and found himself a job as a mechanic in a motorcycle shop. Now he made a living out of a hobby, drifting around from time to time and trying new things, trying to get in where he fit in.

Despite working in a motorcycle shop, Keith did not own a ride of his own. So Shiro came to pick him up every day. They were fortunate that their hours matched up in a perfect way, not too close at end and not too far away.

Though he didn't know that, after today, it wouldn't matter much.

Keith came out of the shop with a stained rag in his hands, wiping oil fron his skin as he walked. He smiled when he saw Shiro's sedan in the distance, becoming amused; for whatever reason, Shiro never thought to park as nearby as possible, he always found a rather random spot. Keith suspected that Shiro chose whichever unoccupied spot his eyes first landed on and committed to parking in it.

Whatever the case, his smile widened as he came to Shiro's window and tapped the glass. His adopted older brother slid the window down with a confused expression. There was a slight tilt to his lips that spoke of his levity.

"What's up?" Shiro asked with a laugh, seeing the excitement in Keith's disposition that was seldom there. Keith planted his hands on the window frame and leaned foward slightly.

"Shiro," he said, "I finally got a new bike."

"Woah. Really?"

Keith nodded heavily, his smile bright, "Really. Come check it out."

Keith began walking back towards the shop, leaving Shiro behind. Shiro quickly rolled the driver's window back up and got out of the car. He made sure to lock the doors twice before walking away from the vehicle.

Shiro found Keith inside  _Marmora_ 's side garage. He waved a friendly hand to Kolivan, the shop's owner, who was currently taking inventory and likely punching some hard numbers in the business's downtime, before he went over to Keith. Kolivan didn't wave back, but Shiro wasn't offended; the store owner was a rather stoic person. He was often silent with a scowl on his face and, when provoked enough to speak, spoke in hard and deep tones.

Instead, Kolivan nodded to him, which Shiro had come to learn meant the older man liked him.

"What do you think?"

Shiro gave his attention to his younger brother. He grinned when he saw Keith standing proudly beside a sleek red motorcycle, his hands gesturing towards it in a "ta'da" type of way. Shiro nodded approvingly.

"I like it. What're the stats?"

"Honestly? Not too bad. I got it yesterday so I had some time to kick the bugs. And Kolivan gave me a mad powerful muffler so when I improved the pick-up it wouldn't deafen me."

Shiro laughed at Keiths cringing expression. For as much as his brother liked motorcycles, he couldn't stand the obnoxiously loud engines. Shiro was like-minded, though he had to admit that a bit of a roar to his vehicle would be cool.

He watched Keith adjust a few more things before he took it out of the garage for a test run. He zipped off with little more than a hum from his engine and returned a few minutes later with his hair whipped into a tangled mess. Shiro whistled, impressed, as Keith came to a stop outside the garage door.

"You weren't lying about that pick-up," he said.

"It was easy since Red is slim."

"Red?" Shiro asked with a quick of his brow and an amused twitch of his lip, "you named your bike Red?"

"Why not? It's red isn't it?"

Shiro gave a firm pat to Keith's shoulder in an amending way. "Whatever, bro," he chuckled, "To each his own. So I take it you're going to ride Red home?"

"Yeah, I'll be out right behind you."

"Great," Shiro released Keith's shoulder and stepped back into the main shop through the garage. He nodded to Kolivan on his way out, who he heard reminding Keith firmly to wear a helmet. "Drive safe, Keith!" Shiro shouted on his way out the front door, remembering that, though he appreciated Kolivan, it was _his_ job to make sure that Keith was safe.

Keith's response was to zip out from behind the shop with his helmet in one of his hands and the other steering, racing past Shiro on Red with the hand holding his helmet raised in a hailing wave as if to say, "fuck that."

Shiro only shook his head, worried for Keith; Kolivan was sure to have his ass for that one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura meets Pidge Holt.

The drive over to the diner was taken via public transport given that Hunk did not own a car yet and Allura was trying to spend less on gas. That didn't make it all that much less lovely, though; Allura still enjoyed the bright and beautiful colors of the day from her seat by the window, and she still had Hunk's priceless, warm companionship. Honestly, looking at him beside her awash in daylight glow, she forgot why they'd broken up.

And then she thought about being with him and remembered that it was because of the intimacy; on both sides, they just couldn't do it. They were less lovers and more soulmates, harmonizing personalities that just coexisted in peaceful solidarity. One a mage and the other the Familiar. Somewhat beyond best friends. Not unlike brother and sister. Too close to be intimate, if it made any sense.

Things were better as they were, besides.

Once at the diner, Hunk led Allura to the door and talked with the waiting staff as she took it all in. The building was autumn-colored with a cozy feel to it, and with large, spanning windows that let in buckets of sunlight, displayed the masses of green on baby blue backdrop, streets traipsed by various colors. It was a rather delightful establishment. Allura's large blue-and-pink eyes roved over the stalls and people with rapt attention.

She jolted slightly when she caught sight of a sapphire-eyed boy with tan skin grinning widely at her, waving her over with vigor. He was vaguely familiar.

Allura eyed Hunk, who had gotten sidetracked from asking about his friends with what seemed to be a friendly and long-overdue conversation with the staff, and considered the young man waving at her. He seemed overjoyed and yet very relaxed at the same time. An odd mix, but it spoke to her. She took another look at his eyes.

They were a delicate sapphire blue and shining with unrivaled levity.

It was Lance alright.

"Hunk," Allura politely interjected as she tapped her friend on his shoulder, her voice amused, "I think I found Lance,"

Hunk blinked at her, then his expression turned bashful as he realized that he had gotten very sidetracked with his conversation. He looked up from her, towards where her gaze was directing, and saw the man she was talking about. His mouth was split wide in a happy grin.

Hunk perked up. "Oh!" he said, "that's Lance!" Hunk turned back to the waiting staff he had previously been talking with and politely and amicably bid them goodbye. Their wishes for the other to enjoy their day carried throughout the quiet restaurant.

Hunk led Allura to the table where Lance waited for them. As soon as they stood in front of the booth, Lance stood to take Hunk's hand and give him a firm hug, and Allura noticed the presence of someone else at the table. A petit little person, though not one very young. She was going to introduce herself to them, but Lance got ahold of her first with a generous hug.

"Happy to see you again, beautiful! How have you been?"

"Wonderful, Lance, thank you. With exams over, I've had some time to relax."

"Good, good,"

Lance backed away and returned to his seat (though not without throwing her a flirtatious grin) beside their smaller company. Hunk, being a gentleman, allowed Allura to slide into the other side of the booth first. Allura sat across from the younger person while Lance picked up conversation with Hunk again and the cook sat down beside her.

Allura noticed they were just staring at each other, so she kindly introduced herself. The one across from her instantly grinned and took Allura's offered hand.

"My name is Katie," she said, "but my friends call me Pidge."

Allura couldn't help the odd look on her face at the name. Katie laughed.

"It's a pretty long story,"

Allura chuckleed. "I see,"

There was a short moment of silence between the two again, only slightly awkward this time as Lance and Hunk's conversation filled in some of the open air. Allura looked around the diner aimlessly, finding ceiling fans and waiters and random customers, then her gaze landed on Katie again (should she think of her as Pidge instead?). She cleared her throat before deciding to speak, just to get the air between them moving.

"So. . how long have you known Lance?" she asks.

Pidge blinks at her. "Oh, we've been friends since middle school."

"Really? You must be close, then."

"Yeah. We're practically siblings at this point. It's cool most days, but every now and then it can be taxing," Pidge said, and her emerald eyes sparkled with amusement, "You've probably noticed by now that Lance is really. . . ebuliant."

Allura laughed some at the other girl's choice of words. It was perfect, really. "Yes, I did. I've only known him for a few months, but the impression was made quickly. And I fear I haven't seen him at his worst."

"You have _no_ idea," Pidge complained, "We were playing Monsters and Mana the other day and he just starts goofing around in _real_ life and steals my wallet right out of my pocket! When I tried to get it back, he held it over my head and put it on a really high shelf I didn't even know I had. I spent the next hour and twenty dollars in chairs trying to get it."

Allura laughed more and enjoyed her mirth, her electric blue gaze brightened by the mention of the fantasy game. Once she calmed, she put her palms together and looked at Pidge eagerly. "You play Monsters and Mana?" she inquired.

Pidge snorted. "Please, I live and breathe that game."

Allura leaned closer to her new friend across the table, nerdy excitement taking ahold of her. "I play too! My favorite character is the archer. I play as one almost every time!"

Pidge leaned forward too. "I play as the warrior dwarf. Cause, y'know, I'm not very vertically gifted. And dwarf axes have killer hit points. Lance thinks he's an expert thief."

"He _did_ manage to steal your wallet, did he not?"

"Well, yes, but only because I was hyper-focused on the game and I was wearing my other brother's shorts which have huge-ass pockets," Pidge explained, pressing against the bridge of her almost owlish glasses to reposition them. "I mean, who fucks around when they play Monsters and Mana? That's asking to die."

Allura tilts her head to the side curiously, head in her hand. "True," she agrees, then asks, "You have another brother?"

"Yeah, but he's my blood. Older than me by five years. He still can't get over the fact that we took classes together, it drives him up the wall."

Pidge was smirking, but Allura was confused. Her brows furrowed a little. "He is bothered by your success?"

"Nah, not really. I guess it's just weird for him, y'know? I'm technically supposed to be in the tenth grade. And my entire family are know-it-alls, myself included, so he probably feels intellectually threatened."

"I see," Allura smiled, "I'm not nearly as advanced as you are, but I believe I understand the know-it-all family dynamic. My father is a very successful self-taught businessman, my uncle is his partner in crime, as it were, and my mother is a neurosurgeon."

Pidge's brows rose toward the top of her head. "Wow. Not to brag, but you're the first person I've met who can actually compete for most know-it-all family with me! My dad is an aeronautical engineer and my brother is following in his footsteps. My mom is a bioengineer."

"Fascinating. Is it safe to presume that you have your Bachelor's at least?"

"Yep," Pidge popped the 'p.'

"What have you decided to pursue?"

"Not sure yet. I got my undergrads in engineering, but I'm don't know where I'm going to go with it," Pidge paused in her response as the food the group had ordered finally arrived. She graciously received her chicken tenders and fries, albeit with all the grace of a five year-old, and gave thanks to the waiter. Lance and Hunk received their meals too-- a burger for Hunk and a hotdog for Lance-- and everyone at the table was given a glas of water. With another round of thanks, the waiter was gone.

Pidge bit into her chicken, sipped her water, and swallowed. "What about you?" she asked.

Allura blinked as she sipped on her own water, mind focusing on Pidge before it could wander off. What had they been talking about?

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Pidge quickly downed her next bite to say, "Don't worry about it," and wave off the topic all together. Allura felt a bit bad about forgetting so quickly, but her mind had found its way back to business during the lapse in conversation with no food to receive. She wondered if her mother would mind her coming into the shop a few minutes later than usual tomorrow, and she was in the middle of a little quick math to help her determine if she would be able to afford her vegan diet this month. If she was lenient with breakfast again, perhaps. . .

"You know what I want to know?"

Allura looked up at Pidge from where her head was ducked to drink from her beverage. "What?" she responded to the younger girl.

"Why do guys' pants always have so many pockets?"

Allura's interest was officially piqued. Her eyes widened at the question as she raised her head to give a zealous answer, the topic something she obviously felt something or other about. "The real question is why do women's pants have virtually _none_?" she said.

Pidge shared in her enthusiasm. "Right!? I mean, I get that we have purses and all that, but we wouldn't NEED purses if we just had some pockets."

"REAL ones, too," Allura emphasized. Her face balled up into a look of disgust and her hand raised beside her in exasperation, her tone matching. "Not those bloody fake front pockets that are just sewn on pocket shapes."

"I know!" Pidge agreed.

"Well you guys are getting along well,"

Allura and Pidge both diverted their attention to Lance, who had given the snarky comment. A teasing grin was settled comfortably on his face as he looked back at them; it made the levity in his eyes shine.

"What was it that united you?" he asked rhetorically, "pants pockets?"

"Pants pocket  _injustice_." Pidge corrected.

"Oh-- sorry. Pants pocket  _injustice_ ," Lance laughed. Hunk chuckled along too. Afterwards, Lance brushed a faux tear from his eye. "Do all girls bond over this kind of stuff?"

"As a matter of fact, _Lance_ , they do," Allura responded seriously, "The injustice of fake pockets is no laughing matter!" she exclaimed.

Pidge helpfully added in rushed words, "It's all a masculine conspiracy to subjugate women through the burden of personal luggage!"

Hunk broke then, barking out a hearty laugh that almost shook the table. There were real tears in his eyes, and his joy was contagious. Soon, all four of them were laughing with differing degrees of amusement.

When Hunk calmed down, he rubbed his eyes and looked at Allura. "Pidge has been telling me that one for a long while. And just when I think she's over it, it's brought back up again."

"I'll prove it one day!" Pidge insists, her fist set firm on the table, "Then you'll see."

Lance nudged her with his elbow. "Of course, Pidgeon. And one day, you'll see the top of my head."

Lance laughed at his joke and Pidge was not amused. Hunk just watched them with an innocent smile (he surreptitiously took a picture of Pidge with her glasses crooked and glaring while Lance looked completely unaware of his impending doom). Allura was enchanted, content. And she laughed along with Lance when Pidge discovered Hunk's crime and tried to steal his phone from him to delete the unflattering picture, initiating an almost nostalgic game of keep-away.

**Author's Note:**

> I think our society is a little high-strung. Not everything is about parties and bling and drama and bling and action and bling. I'm mainly writing this for myself, but think of this as a detox for your soul too. And please let me know what you think about my writing, I'm trying to improve.
> 
> More to come soon! 😊


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